Swooped | ✓

Chapter 30: Chicken Feed

TW: Some fighting/violence in this chapter.

I knew that Felix could tell something was off, but like with most people, navigating through other people's emotions was difficult when you couldn't see their facial expressions. Sure, he may have picked up on my slightly strained voice as I told him, gently, that I should take him home now, or the stiff slope of my hunched back, or maybe the way my wings were stiff against the wind. But I didn't think he could quite tell how shaken I was.

It had been a while since I felt like this. Or maybe it wasn't that long ago, somethings these things were muddled and confusing. Maybe it was when Lark and I broke up, but that was only a light simmer of these numbing feelings. No, I think the last time I felt like this was a few years ago. At the not-so-distant memory, my right arm twanged along the scar line I knew was there beneath the black kevlar.

Sometimes I forgot all about how I, occasionally, couldn't hold onto my feelings like this, how they sometimes escaped and bled all over the place. They stained my face, my clothes, my surroundings, and I had to be so, so careful that I didn't dirty other people with it. 

Oh, but you already did.

My wings faltered in the air, Felix letting out a surprised noise as our altitude dropped suddenly, arms tightening around my shoulders. 

"Black Dove?" Felix whispered above the rush of air around us, eyes closed to block out the chill of the wind. "Are you okay?" His voice was tentative, tickled with worry. I tasted the light sweetness of comfort in his gentle tone, but it was soon replaced by a sour flavour. I felt bitterness begin to seep into my lungs, clawing its way up my throat. 

"It's fine," I said, squeezing his arm as I held him. "I won't drop you, don't worry."

Felix looked at me strangely, quietly murmuring that he wasn't worried about me dropping him. That he trusted me. No, he was worried about other things, but he didn't voice them as I soared us through the air with the facade of a hero, my suit a mirage.

When I landed on the pavement in front of Felix's house, forcing myself not to stare at Milo's dark window, Felix was reluctant to let go even when I dropped him from my arms. The rubber soles of his shoes smacked against the pavement, but it was now just past midnight, and no one seemed to be awake, even the blasted dog living next door to the Schultzs.

"Thank you, for tonight," Felix said softly, smiling up at me. The look in his brown eyes that reminded me of Milo's were maybe still a little too warm, and liked me a little too much, but I could tell he was trying to rein it in. "I feel a lot better, after talking to you. And, um, I was thinking about it on the flight back, but you're right. Of course. I'll... I'll try to be nicer to my brother's... boyfriend."

You don't have to. Maybe he doesn't deserve it.

I swallowed back my thoughts, nodding stiffly. I ruffled the top of Felix's wind-swept hair - because that's what I should do, right? - the boy letting out a small laugh, which was barely more than an exhaled breath.

"Look after yourself, okay, kid?" I replied, Felix nodding slowly, albeit a little confused. I turned to leave, but like before, Felix latched onto my wrist.

"Where are you going?" Felix asked, biting on his lower lip. He looked extremely concerned, borderline fearful, his fingers shaking. His fingers tightened, not wanting to let go, or maybe too afraid to. 

Ah. Maybe my words sounded too much like a goodbye.

"Home," I said, making myself chuckle lightly, the sound empty with a mask of normalcy. "It's not safe to fly while tired, you know. It's like how driving while sleepy is the same as driving drunk, or whatever."